Perfectly Imperfect
by kisa-chan-2006
Summary: Sometimes, the perfect novel prince, is found, in the imperfect pauper...MaryDoctor, Onesided, MaryGray...


_Author Notes_

_Just a little something written at Three A.M. I had too much coffee, and was brooding over past things and the what-not... I got to thinking that the perfect person was actually not the one that you think is perfect but the one who is so horrible and imperfect..._

_My idea might be a little far fetched but then I suddenly sprung up with inspiration concerning our dear librarian Mary..._

_I tried...I did... This is just something to jog up my inspiration so that this wretched bout of writers block will go away..._

X-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-X

Perfectly Imperfect

_X-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-X_

_You were so perfect, _

_We were like puzzle pieces_

_Until I found him..._

_kisa-chan-2006_

X-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-xx-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-X

It was always empty...

_A cave of scarce visitation in which no one blinked an eye towards_

There were sounds…

Creaking, the talking of knowledge, the whispers of the yellowed letters of the press, the lyrics of the dust being wiped off…it was alive…and nobody had taken the chance to hear it…

There was the occasional footstep…

There was always the constant scratching of her quill…

Always the crumpling of a paper that deemed not worth reading

_It was the writer's song…_

The sigh's of frustration, a cry of inspiration, a whispering of the characters, the tears of not being able to voice the words…

Sometimes, it all rushed out, sometimes, it was just so easy to write your feelings, and sometimes…life was finally your way…

However…Sometimes, all there was left of the inspiration were wishes wasted on the shooting stars, sometimes, it _didn't _work, sometimes; your life was the opposite of the dream…

_Sometimes the romantic fantasy transformed into a dramatic Tragedy…_

Sometimes…you get your way…and then…you lose it…

_Sometimes it is the other way around…_

In addition, sometimes, you just never get anything at all...

Only in the novels do they get everything...

Only in the stories do they get their dreams…

Only in the romances do they get their stolen wishes...

Only in the fantasy do they get the prince …

_Only the fictional were lucky enough to get everything more then that…_

That's why, when he walked in, once a week, she wished, she wished on everything, the stars, four leaf clovers, lucky charms, knocking on wood, on _her own life…_

And in return, she learned how to cure a fever in less than three days, she learned how to tame the throb of a bee's sting, she learned how to dull the pain of a sprained ankle…

...But it wasn't what _she _wanted…

He never taught her how to _love _him…

He never showed her how to make him _blush_…

He never explained to her how to _kiss_ a man…

He never educated her how to _speak_ the way he preferred...

He always walked away with her books, her novels, her theories, her illustrations…

He always waved back, he always smiled, and he always said a proper "Thank-you"

…But it wasn't what she wished for…

He always came back one day of the week, he always walked in with a smile, he checked out at her desk with a complement of her education, he always…treated her like…

_She was just a friendly accomplice…_

Yet, she trusted her words with him, her secrets, her thoughts, herself…

He trusted her with his theories, his documents, his medical recipes, his instructions for staying healthy…

But he never trusted her with himself…

And that wasn't what she dreamed of…

Months later, he still came in, he still laughed, still told her news ways of treating the stomach flu…

But there was something new…something that never existed, something that he had never done, something that she didn't wish for, something she didn't want to happen…something…that _never _happened in the novels…

He came in, twisting a gold engagement ring around his finger…and he left, rubbing it in a dreamy way…

The rival had won, the best friend, the neighborly beautiful one, the outgoing, giggly, jovial, friendly…girl…

And the plain one, the proper one, the quiet one, the refined, mousy, quaint, polished, ordinary, simple, girl…had _lost…_

And it wasn't what she wanted…

But…as Mary thought, scribbling down frantic words on a blank scrap of brittle paper, nobody gets what they want…

Nobody's wishes actually come true…

Nobody's dreams fly into reach…

Nobody's prayers paint themselves in the sky…

Nobody ever get's…

_The Storybook ending…_

Except for the ones that never wanted it…

So, when six months had passed…

When there were no more wishes for the stars…

When there was no more knocking on wood…

When there was no hopeful wanting to have a romantic storybook ending…

That was when…the novel unraveled

Of course, he was the opposite of a romantic prince; he was a brash, rude, loud, impatient, sullen, brooding, callous, average, median, kind of man…

He was a wild stallion, an independent wolf…

And for the first time that she walked up to him because he had a deep cut on his hand, and he stated with an air of rude egotistical irritation that he didn't need any help…she laughed at his stupidity…and he frowned…

That was when, she suddenly became determined to break that wild and unruly stallion, and make him into a prized winner…

That was when; she forgot all of the romantic endings, all of the dramatic scenarios, all the angst roller coaster flings…

He didn't visit one day of the week…

_He came everyday…_

He didn't just hand her tips on eating right…

_He shared his secrets…_

He didn't just wave goodbye and walk away…

_He stayed to clean up…_

He didn't ever just say, "Take Care" when she would visit…

_He walked her home…_

He didn't just give her reports on how to cure a stomach ach…

He gave her his words…his mind…

…_Himself…_

It was all she had ever wanted and more…

And as he walked into the library, twisting a handmade silver engagement ring, while she laughed and did the same…

She realized as he kissed her shyly, that…

Nobody really ever needed the storybook ending…

Nobody ever needed the most handsome and intelligent prince…nobody ever really needed a star to wish on…

Because…everything, the ending, the beginning, the plot, the script…

The song…was perfect and finished…with all of its faults.

You can never make that happen…you can never wish and then wait for it to appear…

You can never choose the ending before you have even read it…

Nobody can…

On their wedding day as they held hands and The Doctor and his wife Popuri—his patient's daughter— said their dues, Mary realized…

You didn't always need the ending that you thought was perfect…

In fact, the most wonderful beautiful ending was when the whole story ended without the prince and instead, the background character…The one who was only discovered when the perfection had been forgotten...

The wonderful storybook ending was always, found in someone…

Who was perfectly...

…_Imperfect…_

_X-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-X_

_End Note_

_Well..._

_There it is. It's not a work of art, or a brilliant sonnet, but, I get my point across without me having to scream in everyone's face about the subject... _

_I _**am **_continuing Les Phantom, but... I needed a break from all the... Ghost tales. _

_So, I am working on a new progect, even though i'm still working on the other one..._

_Introducing Nami and Jamie..._

_-They hate each other with a passion, and they're not afraid to say it verbally. But...does hatred lead to Love...or just the love of having even more hatred? -_

_I'm still writing it, though it's bound to come out about... Oh I would say October 30th... I need some motivation, so I guess i'm just going to have to time myself... _

_Well until then my friends, reveiw if you please, Merci! _


End file.
